


Nightcap

by 1JettaPug, Ruriruri



Series: KISS Me One Last Time [1]
Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: 1970s, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Gratuitous Smut, Intoxication, Kissing, M/M, Male Slash, Morning After, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Past Relationship(s), Rock Stars, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriruri/pseuds/Ruriruri
Summary: Sometimes being sober in a rock-and-roll band really sucked. Especially when it was between two drunk bandmates who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Ace and Paul lead Gene into a night of debauchery.





	Nightcap

Sobriety in a rock and roll band had its benefits. Gene never woke up not knowing what he’d done, where he was, or who he’d slept with. He never spent hours vomiting into a hotel toilet or found himself caught up in any humiliating situations.

Well. Many humiliating situations… But certainly never any situations involving he, himself, getting mixed up with alcohol or drugs.

He never regretted his choice of a life of sobriety, not even once. But there were simply times where being the only sober man sucked like hell. 

Usually, Paul didn’t do much more than sample whatever substances the party scene offered, if that. Gene could leave Ace and Peter to their own devices without too much of a guilty conscience. They both seemed to bounce back, Peter a little more raggedly, without much harm done. If they really had to, he and Paul would wrangle the two back to their hotel, Gene at least feeling like an orderly at the mental asylum, and from there the night’s activities would resume. Gene’s Polaroids didn’t take themselves, after all.

But then at their latest party, after Peter had wandered off with a girl under each skinny arm, Ace had ordered vodka, and Paul had uncharacteristically partaken. This wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d only had a drink or two. But Ace had led him astray.

“This tastes like shit,” Gene had overheard Paul complain.

Ace’s response, naturally, was to tell him to mix the vodka with whatever the hell else he wanted. Gene watched, dumbfounded and then annoyed, as Paul proceeded to add Coke, drain the glass, declare he hated it, pour another drink, add cranberry juice, drain the glass, declare he hated it, pour another drink… and so it was until Gene found himself the only member of the band who could still walk straight. 

Before Paul’s mixers got more innovative (Ace was suggesting vodka and vodka), Gene led them both out of the club to go catch a cab, Paul on his left, Ace on his right. Both of them were laughing uncontrollably at anything and everything the other said, and both of them were groping handfuls of his ass.

“You’re my best friend, Gene,” Paul said, drunkenly sincere. “I dunno… I dunno anyone else who’d do this for me, man. I mean it, fucking mean it.”

“My best friiiiend, Gene,” Ace repeated, snickering. “Aren’t you so sweet.”

“I mean it! Gene, Gene, you’re a great guy, don’t pay ah… attention to him…” Paul reached out a hand, fingers fidgeting in what might have been an attempt at flipping Ace off. Ace offered the Vulcan live-long-and-prosper sign in return, squeezing Gene’s ass-- again-- with his other hand. 

This was too much. This was way too much.

“Taxi!” Gene called out. Luckily, one just happened to quickly pull up onto the curb.

“Aww, thought you were gonna have to stick some leg out… Pffft, hAHhhaAHH!” Ace cackled, loudly. Paul joined in, snorting a few times before Gene sent them both a withering look.

He opened up the taxi and threw Paul in without much ceremony, only getting an blearily injured stare in return. Before he had the chance to throw Ace in as well, the cackling hyena spoke up, saying, “Hey, hey! Our jackets!”

“What?”

“Our fuckin’ jackets! Oooh, Geno, how could we forget them!”

Gene wanted to growl. Of fucking course they forgot their jackets. They were totally toasted, so why did he expect them to remember to grab their jackets? “What’s in ’em?”

“Ahhhh…. Paul had his wallet. Ahh, my wallet in mine, and aww, fuck! My ma made me that jacket, Gene! Oh, you gotta go back and get ’em!” Ace babbled, clinging to the front of Gene’s shirt.

“Fine, fine,” Gene sighed. He pried Ace off of him, then threw him into their own personal paddy wagon. “Stay here! Don’t do any stupid shit while I’m gone.”

“No promises~!” Ace giggled, waving his fingers at him before Gene slammed the door.

Gene walked up to the front and watched the cabby roll down the window.

“Just them?” he asked, jerking a thumb back at the giggling duo behind him.

“Yoohoo!” Ace waved to him, and Paul blew him a kiss.

Oh, how Gene wanted to tell the cabby to take them to New Jersey and let that state deal with them. But, no. He wouldn’t do that…. The band would lose so much revenue from it.

“Nah, me, too. I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t listen to a word those two say, alright.”

“Whatever you say, mac. The meter’s running, though.”

Gene fought the sneer that wanted to run across his face. The meter was running, his wallet was burning a hole through the back of his jeans, and he was going to kill Ace and Paul for getting wasted. He even made a mental note to also kill Peter later on for leaving him with these two giggling idiots.

Storming back into the party, Gene surprisingly only had to spend two minutes trying to locate their jackets. They had fallen off their seats and had gotten sticky on the floor, but hey, at least their wallets were still in their pockets.

Tucking the sticky clothes under his arm, he walked straight back out, only allowing his eyes to watch a blonde in a tight tank top and barely-there miniskirt pass by.

Fuck…. His hands balled up into fists at the lost opportunity.

Ace and Paul were going to be very sorry when they got back to their hotel.

His hand landed on the door handle, and when he pulled it open, his jaw dropped.

For fuck’s sake, he left Paul and Ace in the cab for five- no, four minutes at the most! This- _THIS_ was not what he had expected to come back to.

It was all just a tangled mess of long limbs and sloppy, wet kisses being exchanged back and forth between the two guitarists. Paul was giggling like a schoolgirl each time Ace pulled back to kiss at his neck, one of his hands diving under Ace’s shirt.

As Ace’s lips began to wander around Paul’s neck, but this time, however, his eyes paid a glance upward to the jaw dropped bassist standing in the doorway of the car. He smirked at him, gave Paul’s earlobe a quick little nip, then beckoned to him. 

“HI GENE, THERE’S PLENTY OF ROOM! COME ON IN~!” Ace happily told him before returning to smacking lips with Paul.

“NO!” Gene declared, throwing his hands down. 

Ace seemingly acted like he hadn’t heard him. He just blinked slowly and tapped the empty seat with his free hand. The other was squeezing Paul’s ass as if it was plush enough to be worth squeezing. Granted, Gene had never spent enough time looking at Paul from behind to-- wait. Wait. No, no, he wasn’t going down that rabbit hole.

Shoving those thoughts aside, he stepped into the taxi and slipped in between Paul and Ace, effectively breaking the two apart.

Paul whined and protested the break up, lips paralyzed in their usual pout, his hands reaching out to Ace like his favorite toy in the world had just been snatched away from him. Gene smacked those hands down and forced them back over to his side of the vehicle. 

Ace whined, too. When he whined, however, he was much, much more vocal than Gene ever thought his drunken state would allow.

“GEEEEEeeeennneee! We were having fun~!” Ace moaned, throwing an arm over the front of his body. His hand hooked itself onto his left shoulder, basically having Ace half-hugging him, like he were a teddy bear or something. “W- Why you gotta ruin our fun, man…?”

“I’m trying to make sure you can still look each other in the eye tomorrow morning.”

“We can do that fine! Paulie, Paulie, show him, look at me!”

Paul leaned in, Gene getting a faceful of black curls in the process. Irritated, Gene flicked the side of Paul’s head with his finger, but Paul only shifted just enough to give Gene a full profile view of him touching his tongue to Ace’s lips, smoothing over them like a tube of lipstick. Appalling. Really appalling, and yet Gene’s gaze seemed stuck on the whole ridiculous display.

“See?” Ace planted another kiss on Paul’s mouth, then raised his fist in a thumbs-up. “We’re cool, we’re cool.”

“We’re cool!” Paul repeated, nodding more vehemently than the conversation warranted, mussed, bushy hair flying everywhere. He looked like a bobblehead. Gene rolled his eyes.

“Good.” Whatever. If and when a sober Paul came back to Gene’s hotel room bitching about Ace’s tongue in his mouth, he could at least absolve himself of all responsibility. Ace, though… God, Ace probably didn’t have the dignity to be embarrassed about making out with his bandmate in the backseat of a cab.

Whatever dignity Paul had left seemed to be eroding, though. He reached over, grabbing each of them by the hand.

“I gotta tell you guys something. It’s really fucking important.”

“We already know about the herpes.”

“I’m clean! Fuck you, Ace! ’M not gonna tell you now!” But Paul was still holding onto both their hands. Gene looked from a snickering Ace to a too-loaded Paul and silently withdrew his fingers. Paul’s hand just went to his thigh instead.

“Aw, don’t pout, Paulie. Go ahead. Tell us!”

“Okay. Okay.” Paul exhaled as if he were about ready to deliver the inaugural address, letting go of Ace’s hand to push back his bangs with his fingers. “You guys are the best. Like, the best. I really love you. I love the band, and I love the chicks but-- I really love you, you know? Singing songs and being up on stage and… all the crowds screaming and… shit. It’s like I always wanted. I just, I wanna stay with you guys forever. YOU’RE NEVER GONNA LEAVE ME RIGHT? RIGHT!?”

“Suuuuuuuree, Paulie, sure.” Ace seemed unfazed by the sudden yelling, as if he expected it at some point, but he didn’t sound particularly sincere, either. 

Gene flinched only a bit. Where…? Where in the world had that just burst out of? Was Paul so insecure about where they all stood as a band? Did he fear for the future of KISS? Or was this just the alcohol talking? As long as he’d known him, Paul had been a bit nervous and shy under the cocky frontman exterior, but this drunken, begging confession was a little more than Gene wanted to stomach.

Gene blew out the deep sigh he hadn’t known he had drawn in, ignoring the pleading look in Paul’s eyes, and just shrugged. He couldn’t tell him anything- nothing was set in stone! Even while he was wasted, he couldn’t just straight up lie to his oldest friend.

“Gene? Gene…?”

The bassist looked away, glancing over to Ace, who was playing with his hair.

Paul didn’t take too kindly to the cold shoulder, and then-- then suddenly, Paul looked as if he were about to start crying. “FUCK YOU THEN! I’M LEAVING! I’M GETTING OUTTA THIS CAR!”

Gene blinked. Now, where did that come from!? Was Paul really going to get all dramatically drunk on him for not answering such a complicated question? It seemed so!

“GENE, GENE! HEY, HELP ME OUTTA THIS CAR, GODDAMMIT!” Paul shouted. His hands flew to the door handle on his side of the taxi, and he wildly began to try to yank it open. 

“PAULIE WANTS OUT!” Ace joined in on the yelling, shouting uproariously in Gene’s ear. 

“Shuddap, Ace! You’re not helping!” Gene snapped at him, then turned his attention back to Paul, who’d begun to uselessly scrape the nails of one hand on the glass window in order to escape. He still kept one hand on the door handle, though, pulling it for all it was worth.

At that moment, Gene realized how thankful he was for the annoying child locks on every car these days. They worked wonderfully on kids and drunken bandmates who wanted to stroll right out into New York City traffic. 

However, Paul was less thankful, and tears actually began to gather at the corners of his eyes in frustration. “FUCK! Why am I such a goddamn failure… can’t even get a door open….” he muttered pathetically.

“Awww, Paulie, no, no,” Ace murmured, “It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault…”

“Yes, it is,” Paul insisted, head drooping down as he smacked the window with his palm.

“Nah, it’s… it’s, ah, hey-” Ace poked Gene on the shoulder, gaining his attention. “Hey, ah, Gene, whose fault is it? I gotta tell Paulie who to blame.”

“Blame the booze,” Gene told him, moving Ace’s hand away when he began to bring his fingers closer to his lips. “Or yourselves for drinking it.”

“No, no, is it me?!” Paul cried out. “It’s me?! Oh, God! Just- Just LEMME OUTTA HERE!” He turned his head around to Gene and raised his voice again, shouting, “GENE! HELP ME!”

“No,” Gene shot him down. “No, you’re not leaving the damn taxi. You’ll run straight out into traffic.”

Paul shot him a dirty look, then looked around him to Ace for assistance. “ACE! ACE, HELP ME OUTTA THIS FUCKIN’ CAR!”

“Fuck, Paulie!” Ace slapped his knee with mirth, “L- Look, it’s a taxi- not a car! Pfft, hahHAHha!” Ace threw back his head and proceeded to cackle like a hyena.

Gene rolled his eyes at the really lame excuse for a joke, then cringed when Paul’s knee suddenly met his crotch as he tried to climb over him.

“Fuckin’,” He cursed, biting his lip. “PAUL, sit the hell down!” Gene grabbed Paul by the hips and then brutishly pulled him back down, holding his squirming perfect ass on his lap. Ace then decided to be even less of a help since he began playfully shoving his hands down into Paul’s pants. A distraction Paul, from the immediate rocking of his hips, instantly seemed to appreciate.

“No, bad Ace!” Gene smacked his hands away before Ace began all but fingering him. Paul was quick to whine at the loss of attention once more, the wounded look in his eyes shifting to something almost needy, but he was even quicker to throw his head back to try to get Gene to lessen his hold on him.

Quick to the draw, Gene pulled his head away before Paul attempted to hit him. The worst that happened was he got an eyeful of black hair. He moved him back over into his own seat and stared him down until Paul was just shifting awkwardly around.

“Dammit, Paul,” Gene muttered as he settled back in his own seat.

Hardly skipping a beat, Ace looked up, glancing at Gene with a questioning look. “Yeah, curly?”

“Not you.”

“Ohhhh, you meant him,” Ace said, almost sounding disappointed on top of confused. “So I can keep going, right?”

“Why the hell are you asking him?” Paul didn’t look quite as much like he was apt to climb out of the cab anymore, but Gene realized that wasn’t an improvement. Instead, Paul’s fingers were fumbling with the button of his jeans, even though Ace’s hands were out of the way. There Paul was sitting next to him-- right next to him!-- trying to take his pants off. Jesus. 

“Well, he’s kinda in the way so I thought I might, y’know, be polite--”

“NO.” Gene closed his eyes and then opened them just as quickly. Not seeing any of this wouldn’t make it disappear, and opening his eyes at the wrong time might mean he’d get an unnecessary glimpse at Paul’s hard-on. So he grabbed Paul’s wrist, holding it in the air. “Paul, keep it in your pants.”

“It is in my pants--”

“Ace--”

“Yeah, I said it’s in my pants--”

“Stop talking,” He said, shaking his head at the nonsense happening around him. While he was distracted, Paul yanked his hands back down to his lap and resumed trying to free himself from those constricting pants. 

Gene instantly turned his attention back to the other Paul- Stanley- Jesus, whatever those two answered to at this point! “Hey, quit that! Hey, hey, NO! Put it away! PAUL!”

“Present and accounted for, captain~” Ace crooned, leaning his weight over onto him.

“You’re not Paul,” Paul grumbled. “I’m Paul.”

“It’s on my birth certificate! What’s on yours, Stannnnnlleeeey?”

“I had it changed!”

“I didn’t. Still mine.”

“It doesn’t-- screw you, it doesn’t belong to you--”

“First come, first served! I’m still Paul!”

“You can’t be Paul!” Paul looked at Gene for confirmation. “Come on! I had that picked out before he showed up!”

“I had that picked out when I was born!”

“Gene!” Paul’s hand, still resting on Gene’s thigh, started rubbing in small circles against his pants. “Gene, you know I’m right. You know it’s my name.”

“Does it really even matter?”

“Yes!” they yelled out in unison.

“I’m going to start calling you by your last names if this keeps up.”

“No, no--” Ace started, grasping Gene’s knee, tapping it in an offbeat rhythm. “C’mon, Geno, this is serious! I’ve got a right to my own name! Just ’cause he doesn’t like being Stanley, I gotta go by a nickname! It’s criminal! You’ve gotta settle it. Tell me I get my own name.”

“Ace--”

“The solo albums! The solo albums! Tell me I get to make mine be called _Paul Frehley!_ ”

“No! Gene, tell him there’s only one Paul here!”

Gene looked from one bandmate to the other. Ace’s expression, that mix of drunken consternation and weird, eternal amusement. Paul’s heavy pout, plump lower lip stuck right out, big brown eyes narrowed. They weren’t going to shut up. No matter what he did or who he sided with, they weren’t going to shut up for the rest of the cab ride.

Not unless he did something drastic.

He crooked a finger toward Paul, who tilted his head. Closer. Closer. Paul’s mouth was slightly open, as though he’d thought up a new complaint but hadn’t yet managed to voice it. Gene could feel Ace’s gaze, peering in on them both, and he could feel his own face get hot from the attention. No! No, this was too far. He wasn’t getting caught up in this stupid shit. He wasn’t--

Gene didn’t allow himself a second’s more hesitation before shoving his tongue down Paul’s throat.

Paul froze up momentarily. His mouth dropped open, allowing Gene far more access than he’d ever thought he’d want, tongue shoving up against Paul’s, tracing against his teeth. Gene thought he might get bitten in the process-- after all, Paul had been macking on Ace earlier, not him. Ass-groping aside, there hadn’t been any indication Paul’s intoxication was making him lean in Gene’s direction. But then Paul started to kiss back, hard and oddly fervent, and it was about that time that Ace began to whine.

“Hey, what kind of answer is that?”

Gene broke the kiss off, turning his head to face the lead guitarist.

“Oh, what, you want some, too?”

He didn’t wait on a response. There was something gratifying, weirdly gratifying, about how quickly Paul had taken to kissing him. An ego boost he maybe didn’t need. Sure, he was desirable, the scores of women he slept with were proof enough of that, but getting a response out of Paul was something else. Something that shouldn’t have stirred a damn thing inside him but was managing to anyway. Something that was making him wonder if he could get the same reaction out of Ace.

Not the bedpost notches he’d been expecting tonight.

Ace kissed back immediately, no pause at all. Almost like he’d been counting on this from the beginning. In fact, he upped the ante, grabbing and tugging Gene’s hair, hand cupping his cheek-- which Gene shoved aside. Ace was drunk. Gene knew he didn’t have an excuse.

“HeeeeEEEYYY, I WAS HERE FIIIIIRRRSST, GENE!” Paul griped, slapping a hand against his chest.

“Mhm, you want some more?” Gene hummed, tracing the outside of his lips with the wet tip of his tongue.

“More, more,” Paul echoed breathlessly, eagerly. He moved forward, his cheek brushing against Ace’s and nudging him out of the way as he fought for his place in Gene’s mouth. He hummed happily as he dove back in, his hands moving to rub over Gene’s chest, nails scraping into the fabric of his shirt.

“GEEENNEEE! Heeeeey, what ’bout me?!” Ace moaned, shoving his face into the crook of his neck.

Gene was losing his goddamn mind. He only had one tongue, for god’s sake! Why was this so much easier with groupies? At least when they wanted his attention, they’d give him a hell of a better show!

Fortunately, before the tug-of-war over Gene could get any more serious, the taxi slowed to a stop in front of the hotel.

“Mmhm, mhmmh, mmhm,” Paul moaned into his mouth.

Gene purred into the warm affection, but he reluctantly pulled himself away when the cabby knocked on the glass divider, signaling to him that they were at their stop. Time to get out.

“My turn~” Ace grinned, licking his lips. Unsurprisingly, the presence of the cabby didn’t seem to register to him.

“Ahh, ah, not right now,” Gene moved Paul and Ace both off of his lap, motioning to the Space Ace to open up the door and get out. “We’re at the hotel.”

“Ooohh, we can take this party upstairs then~” Ace clapped happily.

Paul was a little more upset than him. “B-but it was still _my_ turn…” he trailed, biting his lip and drawing his eyes up to Gene in a woebegone expression.

“Aw, Paul, no,” Gene sighed, running a hand down his face. “Don’t give me that look. Hey, we’re going into the hotel. We’re leaving the smelly cab, okay?”

Paul gave a little shrug, then said, somewhat reluctantly, “...Okay.” He followed behind Gene, who followed behind Ace as they got out of the taxi.

Gene was quick to stand both drunks up beside each other, hoping that while they leaned against each other, they’d keep the other from falling down. It was a hasty plan, sure, but he wouldn’t be gone for more than a minute.

“Wait here,” Gene told them. “Don’t do any stupid shit.”

“Okie-doke,” Ace chuckled, then turned his attention to the very close, very warm body snuggling into his side. “Oohh, Paulie, come here~” he crooned, capturing his lips in full.

At least they were distracted, Gene thought, before he rounded the taxi to where the cabby was. Perhaps even more reluctant than pulling away from a lover’s affections, Gene hesitated only a moment before fishing his wallet out from his jean pocket.

The fee wasn’t insane, but he would be making Ace and Paul fork over their shares of it when they were sober again. 

After the cabby drove away, Gene shoved his wallet back into his pants, then walked back to the curb. The moment his boots hit the sidewalk, he looked up and instantly slapped his hand to his forehead.

“Paul! What the hell?!”

“PfffFFTTT, HHAhhAHAHHAH!” Ace burst into laughter, bending back as he pointed at the hilariousness that was Paul. “GENIE! HAhahhAHHaaH! GENIE! LOOKIE, LOOK!”

“Paul!” Gene groaned. “Goddammit! How’d you get your pants off so fast!?” He should’ve seen this coming by how hard he had been struggling in the cab to get them off! Wait, did this mean that he was sobering up? … No. No, that was stupid. He wasn’t sobering up at all if he was doing dumb shit like this.

“It’s fucking funny, so funny,” Ace wiped the tears from his eyes. “I love it!” he proclaimed, stumbling a few steps towards Gene so that he could lean his whole weight back onto him.

The bassist caught him, moving to hold him up with his right arm, and then stomped over to yank Paul’s pants off his head. He angrily shook them in front of Paul’s confused face, feeling more like a humiliated parent than a bandmate. “What’s the matter with you? We’re in public!”

“Exactly! Don’t you get it? We’ll be recognized!” Paul shout-whispered to him. “Gimme, gimme! I need to cover my face-- you need to cover your face--”

“Dammit, we’re not gonna be recognized as long as you don’t draw attention to us!” Gene tried to reason with him. “Besides, no one even knows who we are without our makeup!”

Paul blinked.

“...But my pants-”

“Ohforfuck’ssake,” Gene growled. He tossed Paul’s pants back over his face, then got him in a headlock, hauling him off towards the hotel lobby before he could manage to wander off into traffic.

Midnight in a hotel lobby in New York City was probably the best time and place for the three of them at that point. No one was around to question the pantless man in a headlock being guided by the brute who might have had another man in a semi-headlock, too.

Before Gene could get them to the elevators, however, Ace found himself distracted by something pretty. For once, it wasn’t Paul’s face.

“Oooohh, bell!” Ace chimed, reaching out towards the little golden bell on the counter.

Gene groaned. 

Their manager had had to enter the hotel first and tell the management to hide any of their bells because their lead guitarist and drummer were literal children who wouldn’t stop pressing it if they saw it. Too bad they’d apparently missed one.

“No, forget the damn bell,” he told him.

“Noooooooooo!” Ace whined, loudly. He even forced them to stop in the middle of the lobby, stomping his foot like a bratty two-year-old. “It’s so prreeeetty! I wanna press it! Lemme press it, Genie! Please, I wanna press it!”

“Bell?” Came Paul’s muffled voice from under his pants.

“No!”

To save himself the grief, he yanked Ace along, ignoring the petty jab in the ribs he got in return.

They managed to make their way to the elevator and up to their floor. Ace quickly forgot his irritation and began pawing at Gene’s ass again, but he soon left groping Gene’s ass to Paul, who’d abandoned his own pants in the floor as he worked on the buttons of Gene’s shirt. Just as the door opened up, Ace and Paul scrambled out, managing to pin Gene against the wall only twenty feet away from their hotel room, giggling with glee. 

The hallway, otherwise quiet and abandoned, was filled with heated pants and barely stifled groans as Ace kissed and nipped his way down Gene’s neck, biting into the fleshy tendon near his shoulder. Gene thumped his head back against the wall, whispering curses under his breath when Paul’s hand began to unzip his jeans.

Oh, those slick noises coming from just the kisses alone sounded so obscene in the relative silence of the hallway. The lust was becoming too overwhelming…. Gene couldn’t wrap his mind around just how well Ace and Paul could unravel him with nothing more than their lips and drunken touches.

Right as Ace’s lips danced above Gene’s lips, the guitarist teasingly pulled away, tugging Paul along with him. The two drunk men giggled as they stumbled towards the door, letting Gene try to settle his brain for a moment. His eyes shot over to where the two of them stood in the doorway, shaking the door handle that wouldn’t open without the key.

Gene exhaled sharply, “Move. I have the key, remember?”

Ace’s grin widened, and he turned back to Gene. “OOhhh! Yeah! Paulie, here, move, let Gene get the door! I knew we brought you along for a reason, HhaAHahaHA.”

Ace yanked Paul over to his side of the doorway, and it didn’t take two seconds before the two of them got caught up in each other. Ace grabbed Paul by the back of the neck, pulling him into one of the fiercest kisses that Gene had ever been witness to. And fuck…. The two of them… Fuck, wasn’t that just the hottest thing he had seen all night?

Gene moved slowly towards the door, silently enjoying the show as he stuck the key in and threw the door wide open. 

When the two of them finally broke apart for air, Ace moved over and wrapped his arms around Gene’s waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. Paul’s eyes followed him as he coiled around Gene, then he moved over in front of the bassist, pressing a kiss into his neck before leaning up to whisper in his ear, “C’mon Gene~! We’re gonna have fuuuun~! Let’s have some fun~!”

“Paul… Paul, you don’t know what you’re asking for…” Gene argued weakly, as Ace gently slipped his hands beneath his shirt and ran them over his stomach. “Neither of you know…”

“Aww, c’mon, Genie~” Ace mumbled into his ear, “I’m, ah, plenty here. I’ve been waaaaaay more wasted on stage before, and you know it~”

“He’s right,” Paul spoke up, only backing up to yank off his shoes and socks. “I mean, shit… anybody that can still remember the solos after chugging down what he does…”

“You’re not helping…”

“I could be.” Paul grinned broadly, fingering his own shirt collar. Gene realized belatedly what he always knew: once Paul found a captive audience, there wasn’t any stopping him. Not that Paul’s shirt covered much, already leaving half his chest exposed, but the way his fingers idly, slowly traced down it without an ounce of subtlety or shame, was plenty provocative enough before he even reached the buttons.

"See something you like?” Ace purred over Gene’s shoulder as they stood there watching Paul strip down, making a total performance of it. Like this was his own private concert. “See something reaaaaaal pretty?” he asked him, diving in, kissing his neck.

Gene's eyes darkened, and he licked his lips. Damn. Damn the fact that he had always been a sucker for a pretty face. And Paul knew it, too, giving him that look that he’d seen on dozens of their magazine covers, at all their photoshoots, the one that was so suffused with self-assurance and sex. That look that said he knew exactly what Gene wanted. The look that said he was going to give it to him. Paul’s fingers danced down the buttons of his shirt as Gene finally responded, "…So what if I do?"

“Well, stop fighting it, then,” Ace groaned against him, his voice soft. “Get loose… Have fun… C’mon, just have a little fun for once~ Relax, reelaax, relax~ It’s all good,” Gene felt Ace's hot breath rush against his ear as his tongue began to lick at his neck, much like how he would do to him during their concerts. Ace trailed his lips against his skin as he spoke again, "It’s really good, trust me~” An involuntary moan slipped through Gene’s lips as he kissed along the outer edge of his jaw. "I think you rather quite like it already~" Ace hummed, smugly, his hot lips never leaving his skin.

Soon, his teeth found their way to Gene’s exposed collarbone for a single nip before heading back up, kissing the skin underneath his earlobe, and then went back to peppering his neck all over. Ace was confident, too, in a way that was wholly different from Paul. That air of not giving a damn that made every touch and every kiss both casual and achingly intimate, keeping Gene feeling as though he was trying to grasp at something he couldn’t quite capture.

Gene growled, shutting his eyes and biting his lip. There was a part of him that didn’t want to keep watching Paul strip himself down, but it was going fast. There was a part of him that didn’t want to keep loving the way Ace’s lips felt on his skin, but it was going fast, too. His whole body was beginning to burn, and his fists were clenched up so tight at his sides.

It was becoming too much.

Paul shamelessly humming the intro to “Love Gun” as he peeled his shirt all the way open like he was a Playgirl cover model wasn’t helping. Almost as soon as he exposed his chest, he pulled the sides of his shirt back together in a maneuver he had to have stolen from a stripper. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before he shrugged the shirt off entirely.

His staggering attempt at a sultry sashay to the bed was worse. Despite the heated look in his expression, and the wanting way he gnawed his knuckle, all that was undone by how he all but tripped when he landed on the bed. Ace busted up laughing, but Paul just tossed a pillow at him in return, beckoning Gene over with a wave of his hand.

He opened his eyes and looked back at Paul for a moment, possibilities and scenarios running through his head at a lightning pace, before a gluttonous growl rose up from deep within him. He prowled over to the edge of the bed, practically dragging Ace along since the inebriated Spaceman simply refused to let go of his neck and shoulders. Paul’s eyes watched him the whole way, and there was this drunkenly handsome smile that just overtook his face.

“Yeah, Gene?” Paul giggled, tossing his shirt over at him. He leaned back on the bed and arched up, baring his hairy chest up at him as if he were a pinup girl.

“Make room.”

“Make me~” Paul crooned, softly. He sent him such a coy look through those pretty lashes of his, a look that promised mischief and a teasing performance. Too bad for Paul, though. Gene wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

“I warned you,” Gene muttered, then threw himself down onto the lead singer, completely pinning him down. Ace helped with the pinning, too, but more as an accident than on purpose. He just clung onto Gene as he fell onto the bed, and he laughed gleefully as they dog piled on top of Paul.

“ _Wheee!_ HahHAHAahAHH! Now we’re having fun~!” Ace cackled, rolling off Gene and to his right side.

Paul wriggled out from Gene’s left and gave him a smack on the shoulder. “Asshole,” he huffed.

“You’re one to talk, you little tease,” Gene shot back, leaning up to wrap himself around Paul’s body. Paul’s reaction was almost instantaneous, grabbing Gene by the shoulder and tugging him flush and fitted against him.

“Ahh, Gene~”

After all these years together, Paul and Gene knew each other inside and out. Now, though, it seemed that they were about to get an even deeper look at their partnership. All of their movements were in perfect sync. It was like they were performing a dance they had practiced a million times; every move, from the way Paul’s lips dragged against Gene’s to the way Gene cupped the side of Paul’s face, was perfect. Their lips were wet and moved against each other smoothly, and every now and again Ace would see a hint of a pink tongue or teeth. Paul hooked an ankle around Gene’s leg, tangling them together even further, hips thrusting up needily against his.

After a few minutes, Gene pulled back and pressed his forehead against Paul’s. His ass was being felt up again, and he could just feel the lead guitarist’s eyes staring at him.

“Ace, you’re staring,” Gene panted. The corners of his mouth curled back, showing a smile on his face that hovered just above Paul’s open mouth.

“Well, what about me, huh?” Ace pouted. Yeah, he was staring. He was staring at his bandmates kissing just because he could. He was staring just because he wanted to, but now he wanted in on the fun.

From where he sat, Gene thought it was almost sort of cute how his lower lip jutted out and his brows knit together as Ace tried to form his thoughts in his head.

Below Gene, Paul giggled, a sweet, pure sound that made both of their stomachs swoop. “Ace~ Ace~ C’mon, come here! Join us~!” he smiled, happily.

“Aww, Paulie,” Ace crooned softly. He edged closer to them, shifting his body across the smooth duvet covers of the bed. 

“Yeah, get over here,” Gene muttered, before turning his main focus back to Paul, trying to shove his tongue back down his throat.

“Ace,” Paul sing-songed. “Our very own Space Ace~” he hummed, his hands running over Gene’s body, hot fingertips rubbing over his skin. Gene turned back to him and bit at his earlobe, forcing a soft noise from Paul’s lips. 

Ace moved over to half hover above Paul and half cover Gene, orbiting them both like a satellite, stripping him of his pants before entering the pile. His fingers were quick to touch every inch of skin that they had exposed. He sucked marks onto Gene’s tanned skin, watching them fade almost as quickly as he could make them.

Much to Gene’s surprise, Paul and Ace took turns kissing him, each kiss deeper and more passionate than the last as they vied for his attention. Their hands continued to roam over his body, taking in every part of him as though it was their first time touching him.

It was intense. Way beyond what he’d ever experienced before. Oh, they’d made plenty of contact prior, all of them. Shared rooms and even beds in the early days. Hugged onstage, clapped each other on the back. Posed together plenty, hands all over each other. Hell, it wasn’t even like this was the first time he’d licked Ace on the neck. Touch was inevitable in a band that toured as much as KISS did, that relied on image as much as KISS did. But this went deeper. This meant more.

Gene sighed, a stilted breath leaving his heaving chest, as he licked at his saliva dampened lips, and leaned into Ace’s lips against his neck. He groaned when he could get enough air. Each rough hand of his was held gently by another, fingers pressed to his chest, another hand tickling up his neck, running into his hair.

“Ace… Paul,” he murmured, and long fingers squeezed at his right hand, lips to his ear-- a whisper of a breath.

“Right here, Geno~” Ace told him. “We aren’t going anywhere, trust me… Ah, but I’ll be sure to make sure we go on a Rocket Ride~ HaAHhaahAH!” he laughed into his ear.

The bassist’s head went back, another hand slipped around his waist from the other side and teeth nipped lightly at his neck. “Oh, God,” he sighed out, letting the others take his full weight. He was only moments from losing the ability to even consider what this situation meant... Then fingers tightened around his arm, and a gentle nudge to his back pressed his body closer between his lovers. And just like that- Gene found himself not giving a damn about the consequences. 

Another moan escaped his lips as Ace pressed and grinded the front of his body down onto his, rubbing his chest against Gene’s back and squeezing now with both hands on his hips, urging him down into Paul’s waiting arms.

Gene looked down into Paul’s dark, hooded eyes, down to his soft lips, so close that he just had to taste them again. Paul let him lead the kiss, lips pliant under his bandmate’s impressive tongue, making way as Gene licked into his mouth.

Ace pressing the total lanky length of his body to Gene’s back, nuzzling at his neck, murmuring sweet, drunken nothings into his ear, lips beginning to graze his cheek, combined to make Gene’s pulse throb even harder. When Gene withdrew back a little way from the kiss, he leaned back into Ace’s body, his head bumping up against his shoulder. Paul, always quick to get back what he wanted, leaned up with him, placing his lips back on Gene’s neck, sucking on his pulse point; so gentle, so measured. Two fingers tilted Gene’s head around so that Ace’s own lips could find him. The lead guitarist smiled against them, happily finding that Gene was real eager, seeming as desperate as he and Paul were for contact, for more.

A soft whine escaped past Ace’s lips when Gene released, making the guitarist tug on his hips so that Gene could feel the hardness behind his boxers. He needed him to realize how much he needed him right now.

Gene groaned. He knew all too well about Ace’s problem since his own erection was trapped behind his briefs and against Paul’s thigh. The bassist attempted to slip his arms around Ace’s shoulders to bring him closer, but as Ace insinuated himself further against Gene’s ass, it forced them to fall over side by side onto the bed.

He was in the middle of a Paul sandwich for the second time that night. Not that he could find too much to complain about when, on his right, Paul was quick to go back to marking up his neck and rubbing his hands all over him, searching his skin for new places to touch and lick and nip, overpoweringly thorough. On his left, Ace snuggled up almost on top of him again, and buried his nose into the other side of his neck.

“We need you, Gene~” he crooned, sweetly.

“Yeah-- yeah--,” Gene started, biting back another grunt. It was hard as hell to summon up enough fortitude to put a hand out to each of them, brushing Ace on the chin and Paul in the forehead as he started to try and peel himself out of their grasps. “Both of you wait a minute.”

Paul shifted out of the way easily enough, but Ace wasn’t deterred.

“Now who’s being a tease?”

“Ace, get off for just a second--” Gene muttered, squirming his way out from the lead guitarist’s grasp, fumbling for his pants on the floor. Ace looked from Gene to Paul, who was taking the opportunity to shed his boxers. Disappointingly, to his own self-made, acapella soundtrack. 

“You pulled the trigger of my--”

Ace cackled. Gene dug until he found his wallet, pulling it out from the back of his pants and rifling through it.

“Aw, Geno, we’re not gonna charge you!” 

“Condoms,” Gene snapped.

“Condoms?! We fuck the same girls! We all have the same diseases!”

“If we're going to do this, we're going to be safe.”

“Love gunnnn…” Paul trailed, evidently in his own private reverie. Not that it lasted too long, eyes shutting as he gripped his now freed cock in his hand, unwilling to wait on the others. Gene shook his head and tossed the condoms on the bed. “C’mon, you're one to talk. I think you have a kid in every cit--”

“Put it on, Paul.”

“Like Paul is gonna do anything but take it up the ass.”

“Oh, fuck you-- hang on, I’ll get it later.” Gene opened his mouth, about to retort about how “later” was irresponsible as all hell, but Paul seemed to be considering something. As much as a guy who was starting to jack off could consider anything. Gene was tempted to comment on that, too, but Paul withdrew before he could, opening his eyes again and getting off the bed. “I wanna do something first. Sit down, Gene.”

Gene sat down. His breathing was erratic again, fingers finding the covers on either side of him. Ace immediately sidled up behind him on the bed, a wicked look in his eye as Paul dropped to his knees in front of Gene, gazing up at him wantonly, dark eyes hazy and dilated. Paul’s tongue flicked up meaningfully against his lip, smirk starting on his face. Fuck. No way. No way was he about to...

Gene felt Paul slip his hands under his waistband and begin sliding his briefs off. Those long fingers kneaded intensely at his ass, forcing Gene’s eyes to flutter closed for a moment, but damn, he really needed to keep an eye on both men right now, so he forced them back open. He was greeted with the sight of Paul clumsily yanking down his briefs, releasing his cock, and wrapping his hand around it. He looked up at Gene with a drunken grin, then licked his lips and leaned down, placing a kiss to the tip.

Gene shuddered.

Paul sucked him into his mouth with ease, wet and warmth suddenly surrounding him. Gene clutched at Paul’s shoulder for support with one hand, finding the curve of Ace’s hip with the other. He couldn’t think beyond this vision of Paul’s lips stretched beautifully around his cock, the feel of Ace’s fingers tapping an unsteady, yet reassuring, rhythm onto his stomach. Pleasure, pure and unadulterated. He was drowning in it, drowning in _them_ , everything else, all the fears and concerns and consequences so distant they were laughable. Nothing was more real or more important than the two men between him right now.

Ace then forced him to lean his head back, and with two fingers, he turned his face as he sought yet another long drawn out kiss. The lead guitarist hummed into his mouth, his own tongue gliding gently but firmly past his lips while his hands tightened on his hips, keeping him still as Paul pleasured him. He was certain, even in his drunken state, that Gene had no sexual tale or experience to compare to this, to compare to the sheer intensity that he was feeling at being loved by him and Paul.

“Mmhmh,” Ace mumbled, grinning as he moved his lips back just a bit to say, “…Did you know Paul doesn’t have a gag reflex?” 

Gene’s hands gripped the bedsheets with a death grip. He shivered at the thought, moaning softly when Paul’s mouth started to work down around him like he was nodding in agreement with what Ace had just said.

Completely distracted by the way Paul’s tongue kept swirling around his dick, he hardly noticed the way Ace’s fingers began to creep down his sides, rubbing at his stomach and pinching him slightly before they went back to his ass. “Up, up~” Ace poked him. “C’mon, lean up a bit for me, baby~”

Gene complied, too driven by lust and desire to think of what the lead guitarist might have wanted to do. But then-

“Ace! What are you-”

“Shhh, calm down, we’re good, _we’re good_ ~” Ace told him, spreading his cheeks, massaging deeper into him. While he briefly considered the shock of Gene registering his fingers easing ever closer to his hole, his hazy mind decided that he would simply make the experience a wonderful one for him. So, gently, he slipped a finger past the tight muscles of Gene’s ass. “I’ll make it feel real _good_ ~”

“A- Ace…!” Gene gasped, feeling Ace manage to slide two of those skinny fingers in him. He didn’t let up with them either, tenderly thrusting in, filling him in a way he never had been before.

Below them, Paul picked up the pace, practically urging Gene to fuck his mouth, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of his hips, tongue swirling around the head of his cock, licking and sucking and Gene was suddenly getting so close, so damn close.

Gene gasped and cursed loudly. He threw an arm over his eyes and moaned. Ace’s lips traveled straight to his cheek, to beneath his ear. “Geno,” he whispered, softly. “Just let go~” His fingers pressed and rubbed against Gene’s prostate, and the bassist bucked his hips again, crying out, throwing down his arm and grabbing at Paul’s curls with little apology-- he was too far gone. Paul took a hand to his cock now, pumping it, sucking, relaxing and letting his erection graze his soft lips while Gene looked on.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me…! Fuck…!” Pressing back onto Ace’s fingers, then back into Paul’s mouth, desperate now, Gene cried out unintelligibly as his fiery orgasm burst from him, his whole-body shuddering with the force of it and Ace’s free hand held tight on his shoulder, holding him up so that he didn’t fall back on him.

Paul’s hands reached out and steadied his shaking hips again, and he sucked Gene dry, swallowing what he could, letting the rest run over his lips. Gene reached for him, pulled him up to kiss him desperately, and a further wave of pleasure hit him when Paul eased back from the sloppy wet kiss and leaned around him to find Ace’s awaiting lips. Gene groaned as his lovers shared his cum between them, holding him tight as they did. Never letting go any time soon. 

In the back of his currently cloudy mind, Gene was reminded of one of Paul’s earlier rants. Thoughts of them rocking about on stage, loving their music, performing before hundreds, thousands, and just them being together, side by side, flew through his head. Being up on stage with his band was the greatest feeling in the world. But when he had his bandmates this close to him, holding him between them they way they were? Oh, it made him want to stay with them forever in the heat of this moment. Never letting go of them. Never wanting to leave each other, regardless of KISS. Ohh… his soul was set on fire.

"Fuck…. Goddamn," The bassist managed after a couple of moments to cool down. "God…"

"God don’t have nothing to do with it," Ace chuckled, and in his thickest most Bronx boy drawl, too. “Youse got Paulie to thank for that~ HAhaHAhha!”

Gene ignored him but silently agreed.

“Gene, Gene,” Paul whined, turning his attention back to him now that he was more stable. “C’mon, I’m burning up! Ahh, I- I need something-”

“Someone,” Ace was quick to correct him, rubbing his hands over his shoulders. He raised a brow in the direction of the bassist, and then laughed, "HaHAhhAh, I don’t, ah, suppose you got lube in your wallet for us, too?"

Gene shrugged.

“Well... hotels usually have some in the drawers, yeah?”

“Ours do, at least. I’ll check,” Gene said dryly, leaning over to fumble at the nightstand. He produced a small bottle of lube and grabbed the randomly thrown condoms from off the covers. God, Paul was chewing his bottom lip in anticipation in that cute way that was slowly starting to kill him. His eyes were dark with desire, and they almost distracted him by Ace looking at him, nodding at the items in his hands.

“Alright~ Alright~!” he hummed in approval.

Gene swallowed thickly. “Need anything else, Spaceman?” he asked.

Ace snorted softly and gestured to the condoms, taking one for himself and slipping out of his boxers. "You’re about to experience Jendell’s secrets of lovemaking for the very first time, Geno~” he said, giving him a wink.

“Ace, I’m not doing this if you don’t cut it out with the alien crap,” Gene told him, firmly.

“But, Geno, it’s a thousand-year-old secret that can only be bestowed on those closest to a being of Jendell!”

“What even…?” Gene growled out a sigh, having no idea how to even respond to that alien nonsense the lead guitarist spouted off every so often. Luckily for him, Paul was quick to focus the spotlight back onto himself.

“Lady space, you like the way~” Paul suddenly broke out into humming the tune to Rocket Ride. “I make you feel inside~”

“Take a rocket ride~” Ace smiled, brushing cheeks with Paul as they began a duet of sorts. He turned to Gene, altering the lyrics just a bit to better fit the moment. “Paulie wants it fast, Paulie wants a blast~ He wants a rocket ride, he wants a rocket ride~ C’mon, Gene, come ride with us!” he crooned, loudly and offkey.

“Gene, Gene,” Paul echoed, clearly pleased at the thought of him rejoining them. “Gonna help me out?”

“Yeah, hold still for two seconds.” Gene murmured, holding his cock so he could roll the condom over it, his breath catching a little at the sensation as his bandmates looked on. He looked over and made sure Ace had his own before opening up the bottle of lube. Liberally, he applied it, knowing that this would be nothing like anything he ever experienced with any girl.

Paul pouted when he tossed the bottle over to Ace, muttering, “Why don’t I get any?”

“You’ll be getting it, Paulie. HahHAHHahHAHaa!” Ace cackled, wildly as he slicked himself up real good. “Gene’ll make sure you get plenty~ And Gene,” he pointed at the bassist. “I’ll make sure you enjoy this~” he promised.

A hot flash ran down the back of his neck, causing Gene to lean back only a bit in surprise. Paul was begging to take it from either of them, and both of them knew that and weren’t surprised. But Ace was going to… to... to him?

“Trust me, Gene~”

The sincerity of his voice, the almost pleading tone, it was enough to make him crumble. Besides, if Ace’s words were anything to go by, then he must have really known how to do this properly. Gene had a good idea of what to do, too, but he’d probably have to go softer, slower for Paul. Of course, that wouldn’t be too much of a problem, seeing how Paul was already getting closer and closer to the edge each time he rubbed his cock up against Ace’s thighs.

“Mhmhm, Paulie, Paulie, listen,” Ace hummed. “Go to Geno~ Go get him, boy~” 

Paul looked between the two of them, his hazy mind finding being closer to Ace to be a much easier, more routine solution to his problem than moving a foot over to Gene. His hands reached out and tried to needily grasp at the lead guitarist’s sides. “B- But-”

“Aww, Paulie, don’t start that.” Ace sighed, shaking his finger at him. “Go on, give Gene some dirty lovin’~”

“Come over here, Paul,” Gene huffed, pulling Paul back into him and capturing him into a hard kiss before he could continue to whine. Happily, Paul purred into the kiss and warm touch, then gasped in Gene's mouth when he felt his hands on him. The fingers went lower, a cold thumb at his hole, already covered in lube.

It was agonizing as Gene slowly pulled him apart, but Ace made sure he didn't focus on that, though. He had started to roll his nipples and kiss his neck, even whispering dirty flirts into his ear in order to distract him from Gene’s slow pace. 

Paul cried feebly when he felt Ace pull back from him, and then he all but actually cried at the lack of Gene's thick fingers in him when he slipped them out.

Gene hushed him as he adjusted his condom. “You'll be wrecked soon, Paul. I promise you.”

It was the blunt press of Gene's dick into him that made Paul moan a bit too loud, its sheer volume forcing Gene to consider the rooms besides theirs for the first time all evening. Gene’s eyes launched upward to Ace’s, and Ace just cackled at the unspoken words behind that look of his.

“Shit, you should hear him when he really gets going. This? This is nothing.”

“Ace, shut up-- ngh, fuck…” 

“You first.” Ace reached over, something lazy and casual in the way he leaned in, touching his fingers to Paul’s lips as if he’d done it a dozen times before. No bitchy protest, no argument-- Paul’s tongue ran across Ace’s fingertips, as enthralled by the offering as he’d been by Gene’s cock earlier, lapping and sucking eagerly. Just how long had Ace and Paul been fucking around on the side? The ease between the two of them was making Gene wonder, but only in the vaguest of flashes as he worked his dick slowly inside him, eyes squeezing shut. Tight. Incredibly tight, intensely so, sending lightning-sharp pleasure through his whole body. Gene was a little concerned he might hurt him as he started to thrust, but Paul’s hips were shoving back into each motion, nothing but melting want in each muffled sound he made.

Paul raised his head and moaned around his fingers as Gene bent him over onto his knees on the bed. Ace sat beside the two of them, laughing deeply occasionally, fingers of his left hand still slipping idly in and out of Paul’s mouth while his right hand pumped down his own cock at the glorious sight before him. After all, it wasn’t every day that he got to be witness to Paul being pounded into by Gene, the bassist’s solid body rocking into their lead singer during every thrust, even rocking the whole bed. 

Oh yes, Ace wanted to sit back and enjoy a little bit of the show before he had to throw down his lazy hand job and leap onto the stage, becoming a real performer himself.

"Pull his hair," Ace suggested as his hand rose up to roam over Paul’s shoulder. “Ooh, he loves that." His hand dipped down further to tweak his nipples, and he mouthed hungrily at his neck when he leaned in close. “Don’tcha, Paulie~ Why don’t you tell Genie just how much you love it~” he crooned, softly into his ear.

“Ace, I meant it--,” Paul twisted his head to the other side with a shudder. “Don’t try me right… ah, now…” His face was flushed, breathing uneven, every little spasm sending a satisfied thrill right down Gene’s spine. Yeah, he was close. He was definitely close. And he’d gotten Paul there without more than a literal hand from Ace. Still, though, he wasn’t going to ignore the suggestion, one hand tousling Paul’s sweaty dark curls.

“Really? So if he--” and a tug, fingers tangling, dragging through his hair, “say, pisses me off during practice--” and another tug, this one eliciting a quiet grunt from Paul, “will this make him shut up?” One more pull. Paul buried his next few sounds in the mattress, not that it really disguised the needy groans at all.

“Hell, no, it’ll do the exact opposite,” Ace laughed. “Can’t you tell?”

“Ngh-- Hard to tell when he’s facedown in the sheets--” Gene grunted.

“Well, take control! Flip him over! C’mon, Demon,” Ace slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Dominate him!”

“Fuck! Y- You’re not helping--” Gene growled, deeply. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Gene pulled out for only a moment, roughly grabbed Paul by the hips and flipped him onto his back, before adjusting his angle of thrust to get back into him.

Ace let out a cheerful whoop! Hell, he even started clapping like he was watching some sort of Olympic event. “Go for it, Geno! Go for it!”

Forcing Ace’s words to become simple background noise, Gene went onto wrap his thick fingers around Paul’s cock, grasping it tightly. He slipped his tongue down into the singer’s mouth the moment Paul opened it to groan when Gene gave his hair another harsh yank.

Paul writhed underneath him, though Gene didn’t stop pumping his cock until he had Paul trembling and tightening around him. He shot graceful white ribbons all over his abdomen, shaking and having his eyes roll into the back of his head. Gene looked at him, though. And damn, Paul could feel it. The intensity of his gaze, and fuck, those dark eyes watching him with such wild desire.

Gene sat back on his haunches as Paul’s head lolled back onto the sheets. He was utterly sated, his hairy chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath. He would probably be out like a light soon enough, though, with all those deep breaths he was drawing in.

From his side, Ace reached over and smeared his hand through the cum on Paul’s stomach, tracing invisible naughty words on his skin before raising his hand and tangling his fingers in the singer’s hair. Paul turned, leaning his head into the touch, shutting his eyes and murmuring something warmly incoherent. The near-silence didn’t hang in the air for long, though-- soon enough, Ace’s gaze went right back to Gene. There was one thing he hadn’t taken care of.

“You, ah, haven’t cum yet,”

“I already came,” Gene sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

“I thought they called you Doctor Love. I mean, Mr. Speed’s tapped, so… it’s kind of up to me...” 

Without opening his eyes Paul shot Ace a bird. Gene tried, and failed, to keep from snorting in response, which, inevitably, made Paul open his eyes and flip Gene off, too. Gene just shook his head.

“Up to you? You didn’t even get yourself off yet.” If Ace’s own halfassed handjob was any indication of technique-- no, that wasn’t fair, and Gene knew it. Ace kissing him, touching him, Ace’s fingers inside him, probing deep, driving him to orgasm-- not to mention the utter wreck he’d helped Gene make of Paul-- shit, all that was testament to skill. And no matter Gene’s uncertainties, he hadn’t had enough of him yet.

“Nah, nah, I’ll do one better. I’m getting you to cum again~” Ace motioned for him to get down on his knees. “Go on~ Turn over; it’ll feel good, I promise.”

Gene furrowed his brow. He sighed and shifted, moving so that his ass was in the air and he was face down. Curiosity and embarrassment instantly started to war in his mind-- fuck if this wasn’t a vulnerable position, especially when both of the others knew how he usually was in bed with a girl. But he had to know. Had to find out. After all, they could always change it up… his cock twitched in renewed interest at the thought.

“Oooh, feeling eager, aren’t we?” Ace’s hand was on Gene’s bare shoulder, sliding slowly down his back. Some of Paul’s cum remained on his fingertips, warm and still a little wet, leaving thin translucent trails against his skin. “You know you’ve got nothing to lose.”

“You got, got nothin' to lose, you g-g-g-g-got nothin'~” Paul sleepily added in from the sidelines. “Oh, you know you're a sweet thing~”

“S- Shut up, Paul,” Gene growled, then shoved his face back into the sheets.

“Aww, c’mon, Geno,” Ace murmured, sweetly. His hands crept over and smoothly glided over his hips, his fingers tapping on their bony edges beneath his thick skin. “He’s just complimenting you~”

“That’s not a compliment.” He was starting to see why Paul had buried his head earlier. He could hear both of them snickering, Ace behind him, Paul at his side.

“Oh, you want a compliment?” Ace groped his ass as he murmured, reaching over for more of the lube, distracted. “Let’s see, let’s see… I, ah, really dig your hair.”

At that, Gene was forced to turn his head around and offer up the most disgusted stare he could muster.

“What? I mean, fuck it, I couldn’t put mine in a ponytail like that! Too much gravity!”

“Boooo! Ace, you’re killing it,” Paul said dryly, sitting up on his elbows. “Come on, if you really wanna be charmed, you’d better let me handle it, Gene.”

“Think he already handled you! How about…” Ace paused, slicking up his fingers, easing one inside him again. “How about I like your tongue.”

“...Keep talking,” Gene muttered, shifting a bit, reminding himself to relax. Reminding himself this was just Ace, and there was no need to be stressed. He probably wouldn’t remember half this night anyway. Paul wasn’t even a wild card; he’d be too busy puking tomorrow morning to rag on him for letting Ace take control tonight. So there was no bar to hold himself up against, no image of himself he was wrecking with either of them. It’s all good, Ace had said. Right.

“Yeah, y’know, it looks good in photoshoots! But it looked a lot better going down Paul’s throat.”

“He does have a talented tongue, doesn’t he?” Paul smiled, shifting a bit on the bed to lie lazily alongside Gene’s body, hand trailing through his hair, pushing it back as he leaned in. “Yeah… Yeah, you do. You’ll have to really show it off for us, next time~” Paul rumbled in Gene’s ear.

Next time. Paul said it with such cocky certainty that Gene found himself nodding his head on automatic. But there couldn’t be a next time. No possible way they’d get into this situation twice. He bit his lip, and then wailed when Paul pinched and rolled one of his nipples. Damn, he should not have liked it as much as he did coming from either of them, and he knew that. He shouldn’t even have been there between Ace and Paul.

But he was. He liked it. He loved it.

“Ooh, you’re planning ahead, Paulie?” Ace said. “Or some _head_ … he gets real ambitious when he’s wasted, Gene, dunno if you noticed….”

Gene groaned, wiggling himself back with as he took on two more of Ace's fingers. He relaxed, but his body was starting to ache for some action. It didn’t help that Ace just pressed closer, the fingers of his other hands mindlessly stroking Gene’s stomach. He wasn't thrusting those other skilled fingers into him, though, merely enjoying the intimate embrace, humming softly against his skin.

“A- Ace…!”

“Hmm…? Whatcha need, Gene?” Ace snorted, starting to rock his fingers in time with Gene’s hips, “Do you need your own little Rocket Ride? Do I have permission to come aboard then? Can we all live long and pros-”

“ACE!” Gene snapped. He jerked his head around so fast that it had Paul drunkenly falling backwards onto the sheets due to whiplash, and he glared daggers into the mouthy guitarist.

“Okay, okay.” Ace sort of shrugged, his broad smile staying firmly in place. “No fucking around, just fucking. I gotcha covered.”

Ace chuckled behind him, and then Gene felt him fully leaning over his body and kissing his shoulders, sucking over some of his earlier marks to cement them in place, make them last longer. Not that Gene was about to complain at this point. It was starting to feel like sensory overload, and he was loving every second of it as Ace pulled him apart like this.

Gene felt those soft lips brush over his back, his shoulder blades and then Ace’s hands receded, and God help him, he actually whimpered. He was about to pull a pouty Paul move and protest, but Ace was quick to shush him, and Gene glanced back to see him adjust his condom. Thank God, finally. Gene angled himself up and watched as Ace lazily stroked himself a few times, giving Gene a little show by showing off how wide it was when he was hard, swollen and heavy in his hand, flushed tip. From the side, Gene could see Paul’s mouth basically salivating a bit as he watched. But to be fair, Gene had never gazed this long and intimately at another man’s cock before, and he felt his own face heat up a bit at the sight. However, he soon caught Ace smirking at him and turned his head away and back down to the sheets.

“You can stare, Geno,” Ace crooned to him, softly. “We’re not judging- hell, I think it’s a bit too late for any of that…”

Then Ace gave him a quick swat to his ass cheek, and he laughed when Gene jerked up, naturally flinching at the sudden smack. Ah, but Ace was fast to make it up to him, pressing the tip of his cock in. Gene arched his back as he felt the tip, slick with lube, press against his entrance. He didn’t know how he was going to enjoy this… So far, he would say he loved how good it felt, but he hated how damn slow Ace was being.

Of course, he didn’t know that Ace was just savoring each and every inch into him, spreading Gene out until he had him hitching on every other breath was just lovely.

“P- Please, Ace…!”

Gene felt gentle fingers from Paul caress his sides, and he shuddered, his body twitching and clenching around Ace as he pushed more of himself inside, making them both groan. Paul tried helping out the best way he knew how, dragging his fingers down Gene’s sides, exploring every heated inch of skin he could as the bassist’s body spasmed around Ace’s cock.

“Ohh, fuck, Gene! Damn, you’re- _ngh_ \- tight as a virgin!” Ace cackled through a deep groan. “Aww, am I your first?”

“I- Imma fuckin’ sock you right in the jaw when this is over, y- you bastard!” Gene moaned deliciously, then shoved his face back down into the covers to hide his blushing face. “Dammit!”

Ace half-chuckled, but it turned into a moan as he pressed in the last inch, seating himself full in Gene and fully settling his hands on his hips. He set up a slow rocking movement almost immediately, and Gene began pushing back, in time with him, desperately wanting him deeper on each thrust, gasping each time he felt Ace’s cock press against his prostate. It was on every movement, the thickness of the other man filling him so completely, the angle so good that each and every drive of Ace into his body sent fireworks off behind his eyelids, making him moan and press back, wanton and wanting more, wanting everything.

And then Ace’s hands moved, and he leaned more fully over Gene, until their bodies were in line and close enough that Ace could kiss his ear and suck on the lobe. One hand came up to the back of his neck, and Gene could feel his fingers brushing through his hair. Dammit! He hoped Ace didn’t try that hair yanking technique on him! Paul might have enjoyed it, but Gene much preferred not having his scalp ripped up off his head.

No, instead, the guitarist’s grip simply tightened around the strands, then forced Gene’s head down into the mattress. Gene moaned warmly at the quick, rougher treatment, it was sending the adrenaline and the endorphins firing out into his system, forcing him to press his hips back quicker, becoming less and less of an actual rhythm and more of a desperate snapback.

Suddenly, Gene felt something cool, it felt like it must be Paul’s fingers, slide over the back of his neck in a random pattern, and it made him shudder. Then his hand retreated and was replaced by lips in a gentle kiss. Beside him, on the other side of his neck, Ace nudged his head against Paul’s cheek, silently trying to get the singer to focus on another part of him since he was trying to work there himself.

Paul stuck his lower lip out in protest, but a quick kiss from Ace convinced him to settle for Gene’s shoulder, nipping and sucking, one hand closing on Gene’s arm as if to steady him, almost reassuringly. After moving Paul, readjusting his hand and ensuring that it was still tight in Gene’s hair, Ace’s body totally enveloped his own as he thrusted deep inside him. It was so, so good, and Gene was so close, and he just needed-

“Yes, fuck, please- A- Ace-!”

Ace’s hand was fast to come down to grip Gene’s cock- it was achingly hard in his grasp- and Gene let out the most desperate of noises as Ace pumped and gave long strokes along it. His hand was swift and sure and absolutely everything that Gene needed right then and there. Hell, he even went about swirling around the precum at the top and gathering it to stroke back down and fuck- fuck- fuck-

“That’s it, that’s it~ Gene, cum for me~” Ace’s voice was so warm and promising, and Gene was done. He cried out, face still pressed to the mattress, hips snapping back hard as he impaled himself on the lead guitarist’s cock, shuddering himself out into Ace’s hand.

Then it was Ace’s turn. He gripped his hips and slammed forward, giving him such a deep thrust that made Gene shudder from the aftershock, pressure striking itself against his sensitized prostate, letting out a choking gasp at the overwhelming feeling. Ace was groaning and moaning real low, real low, swearing, his hands clenching so tight against Gene’s hips as he emptied himself fully, seated to the hilt inside him.

The two of them stayed connected for another minute longer, feeling quite content just to relax in the afterglow for a little while, sweaty and sated.

Tiredly, Gene murmured something soft, something unintelligible as Ace wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. He slurred up a stream of praises in his ear, nuzzling into his neck and pressing soft kisses there every so often while he slid and rubbed his hands on Gene’s chest as the bassist finally collapsed onto the sheets below, barely taking the time to take off the condom and toss it in the nearby wastebasket. Ace did the same. 

Beside them, Paul nudged his way over and cuddled against the two of them, clearly content to snuggle and share in his bandmates’ afterglow. 

“Come on, Geno, time to get some sleep. We, ahh- we can’t sleep like this, my neck will kill me tomorrow…” Ace mumbled, softly. “C’mon… we’ll talk about this tomorrow.” Gene couldn’t even be bothered to comprehend any of the words he just heard since Ace was quick to distract him with another kiss. Before he could slip his tongue in past his lips, though, Ace moved back, then removed himself entirely from him. He whimpered, but Paul jumped in and began to pepper his neck with more kisses. As Paul pleasantly distracted him, he hardly noticed Ace taking it upon himself to lift them both up a bit and turn them around to lay against the pillows. 

Ace laid himself down on Gene’s other side and began stroking his arm and kissing his cheek. Gene nuzzled against him, feeling suitably drowsy and loving the attention.

“We’re good, we’re good,” Ace muttered warmly, as Paul and him spooned him on either side. “ _Mhmhm_ , we’re all good~”

Gene shivered, a rich, warm feeling blooming deep within his chest from the soft sincerity of Ace’s words. He’d never felt like this with any lover, this kind of security and peace, enveloping him completely. 

“Gene… wonderful… best friend…” Paul sighed, only managing to voice a few phrases for once as he rubbed his face into Gene’s chest. “Mmmm, you’re amazing~” Paul’s embrace tightened around him.

Perhaps it was silly to blush at that, after everything that they had done together that evening, but Gene blushed, nevertheless. He felt as Ace curled closer into him, and then Gene gently roped his arms around them both. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever allowed himself to feel, a certain sense of belonging he had never quite experienced, a trust in them that could never be shaken, a total joy in losing himself and knowing, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he would be found by the two of them if he were ever lost in these feelings again.

This felt right… Paul, Ace… They felt right.

Gene felt his head roll back and relax onto the pillows, then felt himself slowly slip into the abyss of sleep hearing Ace’s soft croons of, “We’re good, we’re good,” over and over again.

 

 

“Aw, fuck.”

Two words Gene wasn’t accustomed to hearing mumbled next to his ear at six in the morning after a wild threesome. He squinted one eye open and then the other, only to see Paul stumble out of bed and to the bathroom, clutching the side of his head as if it were about to crumble to pieces. The sound of retching thirty seconds later confirmed his prediction from back in the cab. So much for Paul’s one-night career as his own bartender.

Ace was still asleep-- or still looked asleep. He looked strangely peaceful like that, but he didn’t quite look like Ace without a grin plastered on. Or just plastered… Gene sighed. The ramifications of the night before were starting to sink in enough that he almost wasn’t sure whether to follow Paul into the bathroom or not. A couple hours ago it had been good, great, even-- Gene winced slightly as he slung his legs over the bed-- but reality was staring him straight in the face as inevitably as the sun rising over the city.

Paul had left the door open. Gene walked inside, still naked. No real point in wrapping up in a towel now. His bandmate was bent over the toilet bowl, looking like a particularly penitent sinner, one hand on the flusher and the other hand on the edge of the toilet.

“I told you to stop at two.”

“Not,” Paul spat up into the bowl, “not in the mood, Gene.”

“Feeling alright now that you’re getting it all out?” Gene asked him, walking over to pull back Paul’s hair from his face before he could get even more vomit on it.

“D- Do I look alright?” he rasped back, and Gene snorted.

A groan then caught their ears, and the two of them glanced over into the bedroom, watching the stumbling Space Ace as his feet landed back down on Earth. 

Really, he’d have slept at least another two or three hours if the comfortable warmth of his newfound spooning buddies hadn’t so abruptly disappeared. Combining that with the sound of Paul’s retching, and Ace didn’t have much of an alternative but to get up himself, no matter how fuzzed-over and nauseous he felt in the aftermath. 

After taking a few steps towards the bathroom, Ace closed his eyes to stop the world from spinning and rotating around him, and when that proved useless, threw up directly on the carpet. Gene’s lips shot down in disgust as Ace tried to wipe his mouth with clammy hands, feeling worse for wear compared to last night.

“Houston- *urrp* ...we have a, ah, problem…” he muttered, a long string of drool running down his chin as he leaned his head back up. He blinked and winced as he looked back up at Gene and Paul. His eyes felt dry and itchy, and the small amount of light that filtered through the room’s curtains made his head hurt.

He wiped the drool from his chin and then asked, “Ahh, ah, is anyone else hungry…? Like, really hungry?”

Gene raised his brows at him. “...How can you even ask that?”

Ace just shrugged.

Paul whined, “Gene… Gene, not so loud… please, oh God…”

Suddenly, more bile began to burn in the back of his throat, and Ace’s stomach began to turn violently as it usually did every morning after one of his worse binges. Instantly, he jumped to his feet as he clapped a hand over his own mouth and sprinted, well, stumbled, really, stubbing his toe on the doorway, but he didn’t care! 

“Toilet! Toilet! _MOVE!_ ” He shouted, trying to hold back the vomit with his fingers.

Before Ace could knock him aside, Gene hauled Paul to his feet and moved him so that his head was right down in the sink. Ace was thankful but couldn’t express it since he was doubling over the toilet bowl and heaving wretchedly, stomach acid and vodka spraying out of his mouth and nose and all over everything. Gene looked away in disgust. Ace might as well not have put his face near the damn toilet, he was getting it all over the floor and himself more than anything. Damn, he honestly would have thought the guitarist to be better in this situation than he currently presented.

“Oh God--” Paul groaned, his lamentation trailing off into another gurgling retch of his own, the curls of his bangs falling into his eyes and his torso spasming as he continued to empty out his own stomach. “Fuck you, Ace!”

“....that’s not what… you said… last night, Paulie…” Ace mumbled, just focusing on his breathing, barely paying attention to the nightmare of a situation they were all in together. “...Actually… Gene was saying that…. last night…”

Gene’s expression instantly darkened. God. Of course Ace would bring up last night. Of course he would. And Gene didn’t even have the dignity of alcohol blurring any of it out. Every memory was laser-sharp in his mind, every second, from the moment his lips met Paul’s in the cab to the rip of orgasm as Ace thrust inside him. Every single second. He wanted to bury himself in the covers he’d just abandoned. Or maybe just bury the both of them. Ace had actually said they’d talk about it tomorrow. Fuck that. Just fuck that.

Instead he silently grabbed the towels hanging from the wall and tossed one on the mess Ace had made on the carpet and the other to Ace himself.

“Ugh… Jesus Christ…” Paul moaned, rubbing his watery eyes with the heels of his hands. “The fuck exactly happened last night…?”

Ace smiled, shaking his head from side to side as he wiped off his face with the towel. “Aww, Paulie… Not again… I try to make these nights memorable for us~”

Paul blinked, then groaned, sharply. “Again… Not again…”

Gene almost laughed in his face. Instead, he gave a huff, “I warned you. I warned you, over and over again. My conscience is clear.”

“Is is now…?” Ace laughed at him. “Hey, hey, you’re the one who took advantage! Poor, drunk, innocent little Paul over there… and me… you should really be ashaaaaamed, Gene…” His rambling was interrupted by another vomiting spasm, this one actually making it into the toilet.

“My conscience is clear,” Gene repeated huffily, but he couldn’t manage to look either of them in the face when he said it. Not that either of them were facing anything but their own puke right now. Paul turned on the tap, then dumped some of the hotel’s mouthwash in the sink in an effort to clear out the smell.

“Whatever you say, Geno,” Ace cackled through his spells. “Whatever you say…”

“Please don’t say anything,” Paul mumbled from the sink, finally straightening up, staring at himself in the mirror with disgust. He grabbed the bottle of mouthwash again, poured a capful, and immediately started to gargle it, trying his dead-level best to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth. It was several seconds before he spat it into the stopped-up sink. “At all.”

Last night, he’d felt great. Completely unstoppable, completely amazing, just like the libertine lover he worked so hard to portray onstage, without any stupid fears or regrets. Now, he felt like an ass! His head felt like someone drove an ice pick into it, his body ached all over, he looked like hell and his stomach was committing mutiny on him!

Overall, though, he was just so tired, and he didn’t watch himself as he fell back into Gene’s grasp. Gene’s hand rubbed over his back in soothing circles. Paul thought it was more out of trying to settle his nausea than anything else…

“I’m going to die…!” Paul moaned, loudly.

Ace winced, holding his head down against the toilet seat. He sent a glare up in Paul’s direction and said, “Stop being a drama queen! We’re hungover, not dying!”

“Ugh! … You...You! This is your fault!” Paul shot back. “Y- You kept bringing the bottle of vodka over to me! And all the shit to mix it with!”

“I tried to warn you…” Gene muttered, and it went ignored as the two of them fought it out.

“You were the one who kept drinking it!”

“I didn’t mean to! I mean, holy shit, this _sucks!_ ” Paul whined, throwing his head back on Gene’s shoulder. It felt simultaneously more and less comfortable against him than it should have. “Shit, this is why I don’t party, this is _exactly_ why--” 

Ace cackled, “Hey, hey, you were the only one who really _sucked_ now, let’s be real...”

“You?” Paul asked him almost immediately, making Gene wonder how often this conversation was brought up between them. Not that it minimized the mix of fervent regret, guilt, and residual want he was feeling now, to wonder about whatever drama they’d had, but it was a better distraction for sure than wondering if he really had taken advantage of either or both of them.

Ace shook his head, his laughter increasing in volume. “Why don’tcha ask prince charming behind you!”

“Oh- Oh GOD! Gene! Gene, I- I-” Paul’s eyes got big. Interestingly, at first he was still looking in the mirror before finally turning around to Gene, face flushed.

“Gene, just go ahead and give him his fucking Academy Award already,” snorted Ace. “He’s been begging for it for the last two tours.”

“That’s not what I-- shut up! Fuck, I’m sorry, Gene!”

“No! No, Paul. Just forget it,” Gene sighed, softly. “Last night… Listen, last night never happened, okay?”

Ace gave him a look like he grew a second head. “Never happened? Never happened, really? Am I just supposed to forget? Aww, c’mon, Gene, you don’t really expect-”

“Yes! Yes I do!” Gene shot him down, glaring down from where he towered above him. “Last night never happened. End of story!”

Both of them seemed keen on ignoring him, however, voices raising several decibels with each sentence. Unreal how they could stand their own screaming while hungover but no one else’s, apparently. 

“Aww, you can’t mean it, Geno! We were having fun! Remember? You loved it-”

“I’m sorry, Gene! I wouldn’t have drunk so much if I knew this was going to-”

“We were gonna talk about it! We have to talk about it! Help us improve for next time!” 

“There’s not gonna be a next time! Gene, I am so fucking sorry--”

Ace stared at Paul incredulously.

“You’re the one that was planning it!” he sneered.

“I didn’t--”

“‘Ace, Ace!’” Ace did his best Paul impersonation, which still managed to be both impeccably bad and unflatteringly accurate, even as he kept spitting up in the toilet bowl. “‘So I got this idea, I think if we both get really, really drunk, like, like fucking wasted, and we make out in the cab after, Gene’ll get horny and join us--’ that sound familiar, Paulie?”

“I--”

“‘But we gotta get really into it!’” Ace chortled. “Then I said it wouldn’t be hard and you were already wasted, and then _you_ said--”

“Okay, okay! Fine, I admit it!” Face beet-red, Paul gulped, barely able to look Gene in the face, much less the eye, as he confessed. “We set you up!”

“You… You _what?!_ ”

Paul cried out as Gene yanked back an entire handful of his hair. He slammed his hands back on the sink and bit hard down into his lower lip, doing his best to muffle his groans.

“Talk, Paul!”

“AAAAaaahhh! Ahah, Gene….! Mhmph, s- stop…!” Paul moaned, loudly, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Talk!”

“I- ah, I was drunk, dammit! Free of inhibitions! I- I just… thought it would be a good idea! I didn’t really think we were gonna fuck at the time!” 

“How in the hell did you think that was a good idea?” Jesus, and he’d always thought Paul had more sense than Ace and Peter put together! Gene gave him an even harder yank, and Paul finally cried out, saying,

“I said I was sorry!”

“I didn’t,” Ace piped up from the toilet. 

“I’ll deal with you later!” Gene’s hand was still in Paul’s hair, clamped tight but at least no longer yanking it. “You said you were sorry for blowing me, not-- not--” No, he knew that groan. He’d only heard it half the night. Oh, God. Really? _Really?_ Even now, Paul was getting turned on by him pulling his hair? Gene wasn’t sure if that should make him angrier or… no. No. No going there again. He could feel his own face get a little hotter as he released his grip on Paul’s hair. “You tricked me,” he said, lamely. Paul just rubbed his scalp hard and hung his head.

“I think I’m just gonna let you two lovebirds duke this out.” After wiping off his face and chest one last time with the towel, Ace stood up, albeit shakily, and promptly wandered back towards the bathroom door.

“We’re not done here, Ace!” Gene growled at him.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Ace lilted, winking on his way out.

“ _Ace_ -” Gene tried again, but he was interrupted as the hotel room door slammed open.

“WHHHHAAAAATTT’S NEW PUSSYCATS~ WHHHhhooAAAAoOO~!”

Instantaneously, Paul and Ace slapped their hands over their ears, groaning and about falling over onto the floor at the noise.

“ _Peter_ …!” Gene’s eyes widened comically. Quickly, he reached over and wrapped a towel around his waist. Paul just poked his head out of the still-open bathroom door, too grateful for the distraction, however ear-splitting, to bother with any false modesty.

“Keep it down, Kitty,” Ace said as he yanked on his pants. “Didja have fun?”

“Oh, yeah.” Peter grinned broadly, oblivious or maybe just accustomed to the rest of the band’s state of undress. Well, most of it. Gene in a towel was a little weird. Peter’s eyes were a bit bloodshot, but whatever hangover he might have had didn’t seem like it compared to Paul and Ace’s. “Two blondes. Said they were from Norway. And their tits--” Peter gestured, shaking his head. “Could’ve smothered to death in ’em. It was great.”

“Sweet~” Ace gave him two thumbs up. “Ah, but we didn’t get any tits last night. Did we, boys?” Ace zipped up, turning his head meaningfully toward the other two. Gene glared absolute daggers at him in return.

“No,” Gene growled, moving Paul aside to stand in the doorway of the bathroom. He adjusted his towel a bit, then said, “No, we didn’t. Probably cause I was too damn busy babysitting your drunk, giggling asses.”

Peter grinned, “Awww, Geno, were you on babysitting duty again, last night? Hahaha, gotta make sure these two didn’t choke on their own vomit?” He glanced down at the towel on the floor covering, but not really masking the smell of, Ace’s puke, and winced. “You’re… really too nice.”

“I’m too fuckin’ stupid…” Gene muttered under his breath, but Peter didn’t catch it.

“He’s so sweet,” Ace said, digging around for his shirt. “Could’ve choked on something, though, that’s for sure-- right, right?”

Gene just groaned.

Paul groaned, too, but he was quick to move Gene back out into the bedroom and shut the bathroom door on all of them. “I’m taking a goddamn shower!”

“Do you need to announce it, Paulie? We can all just assume that when you turn it on!” Ace said, shaking his head.

“What’s Paul’s deal?” Peter asked, looking to Gene.

The bassist just sighed, “Anything and everything that he drank last night… You know how it is.”

Peter gave a little shrug, then walked over to Ace and starting chatting about those blondes, completely missing the particular trail of clothes that led right to the bed. Gene kicked a few things around when he wasn’t looking, and he even knocked the leftover condoms and bottle of lube off the nightstand and under the bed.

Gene sighed, then looked up and about flinched. Ace hadn’t missed a thing he had done, and Gene was certain pissed was not even a word that could begin to describe his look. Just the total lack of smiling and cackling was unsettling on its own, but that look that had set in his eyes was… was hurt? 

Ace felt hurt?

Somehow Gene had considered Ace’s feelings the least of anyone’s last night. Not out of meanness or callousness, either; the guy at least acted for all the world like all he wanted to do was get loaded and have a great time. Ace had egged on everybody, raucous in the background, never really seeming like he gave a damn about the aftermath of any decision. So what was this now?

Tuning out Ace and Peter’s conversation (it had shifted from the girls’ breasts to Peter’s poor impressions of their exotic accents), Gene found his briefs and pants. He didn’t put them on yet, just looked at them, thinking about how eagerly they’d been yanked off, thinking about the warmth of Ace and Paul’s fingers on his bare skin. 

He needed to stop that. He really needed to get that out of his head, but another glance and he caught sight of where he’d moved Paul’s low-cut shirt. Paul’s pants, as far as he knew, were still in the elevator. But just thinking about Paul made his brow furrow, too. It couldn’t have been more obvious he’d had a thing going with Ace for awhile. Paul’s reactions in the bathroom only cemented what Gene had picked up on the night before. Was that why Ace was pissed? Paul not acknowledging him, what they’d done, and then Gene doing the same thing? But what the hell did he expect? Holding hands in Central Park after one drunken night together?

Gene rubbed his forehead and swallowed a sigh. Too much. Just too much. They were all better off not screwing around, no matter what stupid fantasies any of them might have. Even him. It wasn’t worth it. It just wasn’t worth everything they had built up together as a band… It wasn’t worth risking KISS.

“Hey, we’re gonna go get some doughnuts.” Peter again, distracting Gene out of his thoughts, jabbing his thumb towards the door. “You want any? Paul want any?”

“No,” Gene said. Peter gave him an odd look, and then shrugged.

“Okay. See you.”

Ace didn’t say anything as he left with Peter, just looked at him, expression too tense to belong on his face. He shook his head, holding his hand up in a wave, and then the both of them were gone, leaving Gene alone on the bed, no other noise but the hollow sound of Paul’s shower running. 

Gene sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. 

“...Nothin’ to lose, huh?”


End file.
